The Building of a Home by Mrs. L. D. Avery-Stuttle

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Mountain View, California · Dec 18, 1907

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 33, No. 51.

The Building of a Home

By Mrs. L. D. Avery-Stuttle

Honorable and Proper Courtship.

"NOW," says my wise friend, "be careful, I entreat you; you have chosen a subject which, to say the least, you will do well to handle with gloves on; in fact, it seems to me the least said on this subject the better."

Begging your pardon, my nervous friend, allow me to say that this subject has been handled too long already with gloves on. So, with gloves laid aside, hands quite bare, and with reverent and honest heart, let us lay hold of our subject. Indeed, what would you think of a mechanic, a jeweler, for instance, if he undertook the making or repairing of some very delicate work with his gloves on? You would look at him in astonishment, at least, and say to him, "My dear sir, you should not undertake so fine a work as that until you have removed your gloves."

And how much more delicate a task it is to discuss those vital questions upon which hang the happiness or unhappiness of so many tender and loving hearts. And so I say, the more delicate my task, the more anxious am I to go about it ungloved.

"Very well, then," you ask, "what do you mean by honorable and proper courtship? You must believe there is such a thing, or you would not have chosen such a subject."

Most certainly I do; and I want to address, especially, two classes: parents and young people.

Come, fathers and mothers, let us have a quiet talk upon this most interesting and vital subject.

"Well," says a peevish mother, "it doesn't interest me at all. I can't bear the word courtship ever since my Mary began keeping company with that young Mr. Blank."

Pardon me, my friend, but I doubt not that you can remember the time when this very word sounded like music in your ears, and it was not so very long ago, either, now was it?

"Yes, but I thought you'd talk to Mary, and coax her to abandon this thing—she's just breaking my heart."

I will talk to the young people next; but first, let me ask you a few questions: How old is your daughter?

"O, she's old enough, I suppose—she's twenty-five; but it just breaks my heart to let her go. Why, it seems as if the home would go to pieces without Mary; she's so helpful and handy and kind and good and—well, she's the oldest, you know, and she's a great help in caring for the other children, and always has been."

One more question, if you please: Is your daughter a Christian?

"O yes, yes; and I'm glad to tell you that she is a consistent one, too; she's been a good daughter to us, never gave us any trouble in all her life till now."

O, I see; the young man is probably a wild, wicked fellow—an atheist or a drunkard. If so, most certainly I can't wonder you are uneasy.

"O no, no; he's a fine young man, and a good Christian. Mary wouldn't think of him a moment if he were anything less than that. He belongs to the same church she does, and so she urges that it must be all right—that's the trouble!"

O no, my friend, that's not the trouble. I'm greatly afraid the real trouble lies in your own selfish heart. You have certainly been describing ideal conditions for an honorable and proper courtship, and the building of a happy home, where the blessing of Him who has said it is not good for man to be alone, may continually rest.

"Well, there now!" exclaims Mrs. Reckless; "I'm so glad to hear you talk like that. Now there's my Millie. I just encourage her and always have from the time she entered her teens to keep company with any one she likes. I think it's all a mistake to disturb the young things."

So says Mrs. Reckless, who, I am sorry to say, represents too large a percentage of the mothers of our unhappy land. And the unfortunate daughters of such mothers will continue to bring their gray hairs down with sorrow to the grave, until something arouses their injudicious parents to a sense of their sacred responsibility.

Little girls in their early teens ought to be playing with their dolls and helping mother with the housework; and young boys in their teens are scarcely old enough or mature enough to understand the real meaning of the word "courtship." Yet how often nowadays one sees a silly, giddy girl, with her frock away above her shoetops and her hair hanging down her back, hanging on the arm of a foolish young dandy hardly out of his knee pants. And on this folly, fathers and mothers but little wiser than their children look with a patronizing smile. No wonder that the times are perilous! No wonder that our ears are getting accustomed to the sensational and criminal stories that flood the newspapers!

What is the reason that the church of God is so weak to-day, both in numbers and in spirituality?—Ah, the great reason is because there are so many Christless marriages. Careless, unbecoming, and unwise courtships lead to this. And Christless marriages mean Christless homes and a weak and worldly church.

Young people, I promised a word to you; well, listen: Given good health, mature age, genuine and mutual love,—mind, I say love, not passion,—and last, but by no means least, the unselfish love of God in the heart, and you have the ideal conditions for an honorable and proper courtship, and a happy and Heaven-blest marriage.

Finally, in this thing, as in all else, let this be your motto: "Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God."